Times Like These
by non.graceful
Summary: When he starts to stretch he stops, his gaze slowly turning to the door; looking at me, as if noticing that I'm actually in here. I almost look away. Questions are floating through his head about what I might be looking at and he slowly reaches...READ!


(This has to go in near the ending...)

Feeling was always one of the things that I loathed; it always brought the negative thoughts out of me, about everything and anything. Sadness, madness, loneliness, strong anger and heart shaken are what it always felt.

Feeling was my enemy.

I had been poked, pulled, pushed to the ground and trodden on by everyone that I knew or had met. With every passing year a piece of me was ripped out of my soul and lost to me.

He came... He came and searched for all those pieces and placed them back into my soul. He hunted down anyone and anything that had hurt me within the years and pushed me off the ground, pulling me back into place. Other emotions, apart from the negative ones, flood throughout my body now.

I look at him with a hungry expression on my face as I close his door and lean against it.

Sam lays on his bed at the far corner of his room, looking at his laptop screen, intent, by the looks of it, to get an assignment complete and his ear phones in his ears. He's just woken up, I can tell by the ruffle and mess of it. Eye bags sit nicely just under his eyes. There's a light redness from the pillow marks that are weirdly carved into his left cheek that fade away as I watch him. He wears only just a pair of pyjama pants and a black singlet.

It takes several minutes for him to notice me.

When he starts to stretch he stops, his gaze slowly turning to the door; looking at me, as if noticing that I'm actually in here. I almost look away. Questions are floating through his head about what I might be looking at and he slowly reaches his hand to his hair and tries it to smooth it into his normal hairstyle. I smirk, almost laughing about his thoughts about his hair. As if I actually care!

Noticing my smirk, lowering his hand, he shuts his laptop and puts it on his bedside table. Sitting up on the bed, he looks at me closely. I see him slowly take in the expression on my face, questioning whether or not it's a love sick one. He doesn't know whether or not he should smile back at me, in case he's getting the wrong thoughts. Feeling my cheeks getting hot and red, I put my hand to my cheeks and notice the way his eyes linger on that small movement. Doing the next step, he takes in my appearance; I look down.

For a reason I have no idea about, I done different things with my hair that would make me look more like the other girls that went to our school or who I used to dance with. It had been straightened and curled. Pinned and unpinned. It had to be re-washed several times because of the amount of hair spray that was put into it. I washed it for the last time, blow dried it and put it into a bun; sick of all the hairdos I tried to do to make me the same as every other girl.

I'm wearing a nice blue and white floral dress, one that I used to wear before we had dance rehearsals or a performance. I know I look great, because I had been told a thousand times that this was an amazing dress and I made sure that I wore this just for him. I didn't go full out on the accessories. White Flats and a bag were just added to the dress and that's it.

Looking back up, I notice a look I haven't seen on any guys face in years, mingled with a bit of something else.

Quickly looking away, I walk a bit away from the door, open my bag and fidget around in my bag for a little while, before I get out the invitation for Rye's birthday out for him. Without looking up I mumble, "No one opened the door and I checked to see if your mum was home, but she isn't. Anyway, Rye wanted me to give this to you since you've been absent for the last couple days and he hasn't seen you for a long time and I thought I should come by and-" Hearing the squeak of his bed, I stop speaking and pear up at him, finding him walking towards me. I start speaking in rushed sentences. "...Give it to you so that you can be there for your best friend and create some entertainment for everyone over there; since-"

The sound of his hand moving up to my arm reaches my ears and sends excitement through my body, before he can even touch me. He doesn't touch me though. I hear the wind whistle back as he puts his hand back and feel his eyes trying to search for mine.

Looking up slowly, I notice a new piece of him from every centimetre I look up. He's not wearing shoes or socks and his feet are a pale white with little hairs on the big toe. His pants are green with little cookie monsters printed along every bit of the fabric. Goosebumps are rising along his arm. As I notice this I reach my arm out to try and create some warmth for him, but once I'm two centimetres away from the mark I put my hand down and continue this endless mission.

Slowly, slowly I look up at him and meet his deep blue eyes and almost melt within my skin.

Keeping my eyes on his I slowly reach my hand up to the fading mark on his face, willing it to disappear as I touch his left cheek. Closing his eyes and groaning softly at the slight touch of my hand, I slowly withdraw my hand and wait for him to open his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Again he questions me with his facial expressions. They ask me: 'For what Jazz, what did you do?'

I almost hate myself as I say, "I didn't mean to touch you. I know we're not meant to do that. I'm sorry."

Slowly, I walk back to the door and as I put my hand on the handle. I hear his soft footsteps along the wood panelled floor as he walks over and reaches out and touches my hand softly. Shivers go up and down my spine and I almost feel as if I dance out of my skin. Placing both of his hands on my shoulders, he wills me to turn around and face him; I comply. Turning around I look up into his deep blue eyes. "Jazz, did I ever tell you that I don't give a shit about rules, including ones that keep me away from things that I love?" Without waiting for an answer he reaches out to my hair and undo's my bun. My long hair washes over my shoulders as it drops to my mid-back and he says, "You're beautiful the way you are; don't try to be something you're not."

Ruining the moment as always I ask, "You don't like my dress?" Disappointment goes though my head as I replay everyone's feedback about my dress in my mind and pinpoint any sarcasm out of their voice.

"Like? More like I love it, it makes you look amazing like a goddess." I smile up at him and he places his hand under my chin. "But it doesn't make a difference to me. You've always been a goddess to me and have always been beautiful since the first day I saw you in the school corridors." Lifting my head up to his, I count the seconds it takes for my lips to meet his.

_1, 2, 3, and 4_ I think in my head as our lips meet and everything in explodes in my body and soul. When our lips are apart for just a couple seconds, before thinking about what I'm doing, I release the words from my lips and find that at that very moment he confirms the same thing. "I love you", we chorus together.

Those three words add to the heat and tension between us. He takes the card from my hand and chucks it on the floor; I do the same with my bag quickly, as he pulls me into his embrace.

It's hard to do anything but kiss as we hold each other tightly, but somehow we manage. It starts with him slowly tugging off his shirt; then with him untying the bow around my waist and softly pulling my dress above and over my head.

I'm glad he doesn't look at me in my underwear; I'd be very uncomfortable. I stop kissing him and look up at him and bring my hands back up to his face, "I love you." He smiles and leads me over to his bed. I stop in my tracks and almost cry out to him, "Sam, I can't; I'm not ready."

Looking back at me with understanding he says, "Jazz, I know that. I wouldn't push you into anything you didn't want. I'm not ready either but I do know if I had to it'd be with you."

Touching his arm gently, I true fully explain it to him, "Sam I want to, it's just that I don't think I'm ready and I think I love you too much to actually do it."

He smiles softly at me and I can't help but smile too. "I'm doing exactly that. You might not know it but, you're fragile and need tender care. I'm here to give that to you; to make you better. "

Taking him back into my arms, I start to caress his neck with soft warm kisses. He moans softly as I reach his lips again and then kiss eyes, nose, cheeks, and ears.

_I should tell him about everything I've lied about._ The thought stops me as I plant my last kiss on his Adam's apple and my body goes rigid. As always he notices the slight change and looks up at me with yet another question in his eyes. "Jazz?" I look away and touch my hand to my face, making sure that I was still there. Convinced that I was, I walk over to the bed and sit on it, looking out of the window behind it. "Jazz," he whispers slowly and sits on the bed next to me. Stroking my back slowly he waits for me to look up at him and when I do I look at him through tear stained eyes. Noticing my tears he brings his head slowly to mine, so that his eyes are close to mine, searching my soul for answers and asks, "What's the matter?"

"I'm lying to you," I whisper.

Moving a bit off the bed he looks at me with a different look. "You don't love me?"

Reaching up, I touch his face and bring it close to me. "Love is something I don't lie about." Dropping my hand I look back out of the window. "It's something from a long time ago. Remember the meeting I called back when I was scared of keeping Massie alone at home because I was moving in with my dad and you asked me why I was moving in with him? I told you it was because of my mother doing her disappearing trips every couple months and she never tells us where she goes; I lied. I'm only telling you now because if I'm going to love you and you me, you deserve the truth and honour that comes tightly joined to it." Slowly I turn back to Sam where he patiently sits looking at me and almost urging for me to continue. "True my mother does disappear, but we're always aware of where she goes. It's a place where cancer patients go to get chemo or radiation therapy or just about anything that might help them recover quickly. My mum goes there every time she's in need of a cure; she herself is a cancer patient. That's the true reason why I needed you to look after Massie. I only lied to help me escape the feelings that would persuade me to actually do what I was planning to do if I told anyone..." Lifting my hand to his face and then dropping it at the unforgivable look on his face, I move a bit away.

Not caring what he's feeling I go on though. "Sometimes, I feel like you're much more important than her because of all the good things you've done in comparison to what she makes me feel. You know, as bad it may sound, you're what makes me sane. Most of the times you make me want to break down because of all the wonderful things you make me feel, but... I'm telling you know how good you make me feel."

Padding my way over to him on the bed, I look into his deep blue eyes and kiss him softly on the cheek, "I hate not being single. I hate marriage and I hate even the thought about having kids; I hate anything that has to do with commitment." I kiss him again, but on his other cheek. "You make me want to put a damn ring on my finger and have three kids and tell you I love you every day and make a commitment out of it." I go to put my lips to his forehead to kiss it, but he meets my lips and gives me a kiss of his own. I back up and smile up at him, "I haven't finished yet," I say. Waiting a couple moments, I look at him with smiling eyes and whisper, "I love you."

Bringing his lips down to my face he whispers, "I haven't even started yet." He kisses my neck once and then meets my eyes. "When I was younger I used to hear about people looking for treasure and not finding it. As a kid I was stupid enough to say, 'One day I'm going to be one of the lucky people who find the treasure'. I never actually thought I'd find it but I did; I found you." Kissing my chin and then looking back up at me he continues, "I'd run to you in a heartbeat if you needed me or wanted me to be there with me. Even in the freezing cold of winter, I'd run and make sure that if I don't make sure that I tell one of the boys, most preferably Rye, to write a poem about you on my tomb stone." Kissing me under my ear he whispers, "You're the one; I love you."

An endless cycle of kisses start from there. We whisper stupid love quotes to each other and stumble over each other's words. Rolling along the bed spread, we tumble into yet another set of uncountable kisses. We don't take anymore pieces of each other's clothing off; scared of doing the unthinkable, but wishing we could anyway. Sweat streams from our bodies and I can feel my hair sticking to my back. I stop him as we kiss and quickly take my hair band back from his wrist. I watch him watching me as I tie my hair up back into a bun and smirk at him. Crawling over to me, he tucks a lose strand of hair behind my ear and kisses my cheeks, my neck and my nose and then finally gives me a quick peck on my lips. "Hmm, me wants more," I say and wait for him to give me more. He waits about a minute and studies me and then gives me three quick pecks before I get sick of it and take him into my arms, kissing him long and hard. My hands go up to his hair and ruffle it even more than it already is.

Remembering all of the nice things he's ever done for me, like looking after Massie for me or teaching me how to skateboard because I never learnt to, makes me want to love him even more. Thoughts of him knocking on my window, so that he could apologise to me for being a jack ass to me and when he punched the guy I kissed because he couldn't take another kissing me enter my mind and I kiss him even harder.

Finally, I get the guts to do it. I reach up to his waist and push his pants down. He looks up with yet another question. I know what it is and nod. Reaching up to my back he unclasps my bra and kisses my bare chest and then brings me to his lap. We kiss and kiss for minutes and then we decide with a couple more nods.

He goes to his bathroom and re-enters a moment later. Automatically, we start to kiss harder than before and I can feel bruises and small lumps forming on my lips from the hard kisses we share. We spend another hour kissing and then he makes his move.

My phone rings and I groan aloud as I hear the all too well familiar tone of it. We ignore it and go back to our kissing. It rings another three times before we get sick of the person calling. I'm tempted to throw the phone into Sam's toilet, but he tells me to check who it is just in case. So, I do.

_Dad. _I groan and answer it and put him on loud speaker. I automatically detect the pissed off tone from his voice as he says, "Jasmine, did you finally decide to answer your phone? Do you know what time it is?"

I look at Sam's bedside table and gently slap my face softly. "Ah yeah, its 6 pm. Sam and I are just leaving Rye's place. Why, what's wrong?"

"We're meant to be going out for dinner in about an hour, don't you remember?" He almost yells. "I want you home soon, Jasmine so you can get changed and spend ages on your hair."

Sam pats me on the shoulder and I look up at him. Covering the mouth piece, I ask, "What?"

Lowering his voice he says, "Let me speak to your dad, go take a shower."

Complying I say to dad, "Dad, Sam wants to talk with you." I hear my dad clicking his tongue frustratingly as I pass the phone to Sam.

I collect all my clothes from the floor and grab one of the many towels from the hook by his door and enter the bathroom. I catch fragments of their conversation, whilst I'm in the warm water and sometimes assume the worst of how the conversation is going. 'Yeah but she'll be there quicker', Sam would say and then dad would answer, 'Sam you're a nice guy but we usually go in the same car and we get home pretty late; I don't know if you're parents would be happy with that.' I have no idea how it went after those couple of minutes.

I was happy and embarrassed to see Sam when he came into the shower, naked and all, telling me to squish over."What you say to him?"

"Hmm... let me think," he brushes a strand out of my eyes and grabs the shampoo from the rack. "I told your dad that I'd come with you and drop you off, because that'd be quicker. He didn't want that because supposedly you guys go in the same car and get home late." He puts a bit of shampoo in his hair and massages it in for a minute and then rinses it out and gets the conditioner. I start to wash the sweat from my back as he tells me more. "So I told him, I'd drop you off and come with you in the car and then if it's too late I'd sleep over. He asked why I'd do that and I told him because I love you," he says matter-of- fact-ly and washes out the conditioner in his hair.

After he exits the beam of water, I hand him the soap and get out of the shower all squeaky clean and ask, "Do you have a blow dryer?"

"Mum should," he answers. Not bothering to go to his mum's room, for fear of actually seeing her, I get changed back into my blue and white floral dress and then towel dry my hair with a clean towel. When he exits the shower, I throw him a towel and walk back into his bedroom and fix his bed into how it was before we messed it up.

The memory of his sweet kisses enter my mind as pull the bed spread over the bed and place the pillow on it. I miss his touch already and yearn for it even though he's in the other room getting changed. Stupid love quotes enter my mind as I think of the moment where we wrapped around each other's body whispering 'I love you'. Or when I saw him on his bed and he got this look of pure love when I touched my face softly and I blushed a bright pink just because of him.

Done with making his bed, I walk to my bag and take out one of my favourite small perfume bottles and spray it on me. I hear Sam come up behind me and envelope me in his arms and take in deep breathes of my perfume, "You smell amazing." I turn around and give him a kiss. Backing away I take a look at what he's wearing and smile to myself.

He's wearing one of the outfits dad was most likely to be wearing tonight when we go to the restaurant together. He wears a pair of black trousers, a pair of nice shiny leather shoes and a blue and black stripped top. "Hey, what are you smiling at?"

"Dad's probably going to be dressed in something similar," I laugh and smirk at him.

"What should I wear then?"

"Nothing... I mean just wear that it's fine, you look good in anything," I admit to him.

"Thanks, I always make myself look good for only one particular woman; you."

Smiling, I kiss him and then warn him when I'm done, "I must warn you that there is a dance floor at this restaurant and I haven't danced in a while and I'd like to do that with you."

"Dancing?" He asks and I nod. "You and me? Fuck yeah!"


End file.
